TOW the soul mates
by AEM77
Summary: Chandler and Monica don't believe in soul mates.
1. Chapter 1

**Oh look! It's crazy!Phoebe, pathetic!Ross, confused!Joey, stubborn!Monica, humble!Chandler and Rachel when I remember to add her to the story. Must be another totally unoriginal, heavy on the dialogue and light on the plot, story from aem77. Sorry I keep subjecting you all to these. It's a sickness! This one takes place mid season 3 or so and assumes the gang do not know Chandler. Enjoy!**

"Monica!" Phoebe exclaims excitedly rushing into Central Perk. Monica just manages to safely move her coffee mug from Phoebe's frantic trajectory as her friend collapses in the chair beside hers.

"Do I have the guy for you!" Phoebe announces gleefully. Monica just looks back at her friend warily. Phoebe has many admirable qualities but her taste in most things, particularly men, tends to run very differently from Monica's.

"It took _forever_ ," Phoebe tells her stretching out the word and stressing her time commitment by violently clenching her fists in front of the billowy peasant's blouse she's sporting. "But it was worth it," she tells Monica relaxing once more, "because he is perfect, absolutely perfect. You're soul mates!" She concludes ecstatically.

"There's no such thing as soul mates," Monica states confidently. She's been revisiting the notion pretty much nonstop since she's chosen to walk away from the very best relationship she's ever managed to have. If soul mates are a thing and Richard was hers, than she's a bigger idiot than even her mother has been giving her credit for. "Besides, I'm not ready to meet anyone new yet," she adds when it appears clear that Phoebe won't be backing down from her matchmaking.

"Well you better get ready," Phoebe threatens completely ignoring her friend's reservations, "because I invited him here for coffee. He should be coming any minute now!"

"But Richard and I…"

But she isn't able to expand on her favorite topic of her failed relationship as Phoebe angrily interjects, "No, no, no. No more Richard!" The angry fists are back on display once more and Monica actually recoils a bit from her friend's outburst. "I can't stand to hear you complaining about missing Richard for one more second."

"But it's only been a month," Monica whines. A time when she'll be over Richard seems highly theoretical at this point and if Phoebe is expecting a complete recovery any time soon she's in for some serious disappointment.

"Not one more second!" Phoebe repeats, fists a-blazing. Monica tries to remember the first time she'd met Phoebe and if she'd had any inkling at the time how scary her seemingly friendly if flakey friend would turn out to be.

"Fine. I'll have coffee with him," Monica agrees reluctantly. Though she adds a petulant, "Jeez…", not entirely willing to concede defeat.

"What about me, Pheebs?" Her brother asks hopefully from beside her on the sofa. "Did you find anyone for me?" Poor sweet lonely Ross. He really has had the worst dating luck since his dalliance with Rachel crashed and burned.

"No, no, nobody for you," Phoebe reprimands him sharply, waggling her finger emphatically. "And I'm not looking either. _Your_ soulmate is right in front of your face," she murmurs loudly with a meaningful glance at the counter where Rachel is trying and failing to balance a plate and mug of coffee in her arms. Though the rest of them are ready to cut their losses and move on, Phoebe seems oddly committed to a future for Monica's best friend and brother.

Phoebe continues to glare angrily at Ross for a moment or two before recollecting herself and continuing on with her unintentional yet impressive impersonation of Yente from Fiddler on the Roof, "Oh, but I did find someone for Joey!"

"Right, because Joey needs the help," Ross mumbles with a pout.

"For me?" Joey asks all touched that Phoebe's included him in her mad schemes. "Aw, that's so sweet, Phoebe," he smiles affectionately across the coffee table at her for a moment before dropping his sentimental tone and adding with bravado "But seriously I really _don't_ need any help in that area, if you know what I mean."

"We know what you mean," Ross deadpans, just barely beating Monica to the remark.

"Well, I wasn't looking for you," Phoebe explains. "But when I met this person I just knew they were the one."

"Well alright then," Joey replies starting to get excited, "Tell me about my soul mate."

"They're perfect for you," Phoebe gushes. "You guys have so much in common! They're really into all that sophomoric crap you like too."

"Sophomoric?" Joey asks with a frown. Monica wonders if he's insulted or merely confused. Probably the latter, she decides.

"You know, cartoons, beer and pizza, poker," Phoebe clarifies, ticking the shared interests off on her fingers. "Trust me. You're going to love them."

"A chick that plays poker? Nice!" Joey says nodding his head and waggling his eyebrows at them all. On any other person it would come across as sleazy, but there's something about Joey Tribbiani that actually makes a leer seem charming.

"There is this one _little_ thing," Phoebe begins, holding her thumb and forefinger closely together to stress the triviality of the one thing that may be wrong with Joey's potential soul mate. Her tone and feigned nonchalance put them all ill at ease as they wait to hear about the possible defect.

"What? What is it?" Joey asks, immediately distrustful. "She doesn't have a wooden leg does she? Cause I am _not_ doing that again."

Monica kind of wants to hear more about this one-legged woman, but before she can press Joey for details, they're all distracted by the arrival of a man making his way into the coffee shop. Phoebe spots him first and begins waving him over energetically.

Feeling suddenly nervous, Monica turns in her seat to get a better look at the guy Phoebe's selected for her. At first glance he's unremarkable, tall with a medium build and sandy brown hair. He's dressed like any one of the hundreds of young men working in the business district, though his otherwise generic look is punctuated by a very loud and colorful tie. She's inclined to think it rather silly till the new arrival's eyes meet her own. They're a really beautiful blue and this feature combined with the shy little smile he sends her a moment later have the strange effect of making his once offensive tie seem suddenly rather adorable.

"Um, hi…again," he greets Phoebe with a small wave.

"Chandler! You came," she says happily, jumping up from her seat to hug him tightly. He seems surprised by this but handles it, Monica notes, with reasonable grace. "I'm so glad. Did you have any trouble finding it?"

"No, no," he reassures her. "Your directions were good. Unconventional," he adds with a pause. "I had to ask a few people before I could find out which taqueria on 5th made the best horchata, but once I had that figured out, smooth sailing," he punctuates this statement with a complicated and unclear hand gesture presumably meant to demonstrate how easily he'd managed finding the coffee shop. "Actually I ended up drinking quite a bit of horchata," he adds in embarrassment a moment later. "Do you know if there's a restroom here I could use?"

With a nod of thanks to Phoebe, who directs him towards the rear of the coffee shop, Chandler turns to leave them momentarily and Monica waits a beat to ensure he's out of hearing range before turning to her friend, "I've got to hand it to you, Pheebs. He's kind of cute. Where did you meet him again?"

"He works at some office downtown, well I think he works there. He was in the break room anyhow," Phoebe pauses a moment to recollect, and Monica shudders a bit thinking of how many random men Phoebe must have harassed over the last few weeks on her self-assigned mission of finding Monica a soul mate. She really can't decide if she's flattered or insulted.

"I think he thinks I'm the boss' niece," Phoebe tells them proudly, preening at her own cleverness.

"Wait. He thinks what?" Monica asks in alarm. If things do work out with this guy, she's clearly going to have a lot of explaining to do.

"Well I had to say something to get him to come down here," Phoebe tells her defensively. "I wanted him to meet Joey!"

"Say what now?" Joey asks in surprise, echoing Monica's own thoughts.

"I wanted you two to meet," Phoebe tells him, unperturbed by his obvious discomfort. "You're going to have the best time together!"

"This is the person you found for me?" He asks angrily. "That guy's my soul mate?"

"Mm-hmm. He's great, right? I mean his jokes are terrible," Phoebe admits begrudgingly, "but they're probably going to be over your head anyhow, no offense, so you don't need to worry about that. Trust me. You guys are going to have so much fun!" She finishes happily.

"Hey, what about me?" Monica asks irritably. Sure, initially she hadn't wanted to do this whole soul mate thing, but now that the guy is actually here she finds she doesn't really want to give him up, at least not to Joey anyhow.

"What? That guy? For you? No, I don't think so," Phoebe scoffs. Monica bristles slightly at Phoebe's condescension. Why were her friends always assuming they knew her better than she knew herself? Was she really such an open book? Her hard feelings are appeased a moment later however as Phoebe clarifies, "Monica you could do so much better than that guy, believe me."

"Why, what's wrong with that guy?" Ross asks curiously.

"I'll tell you what's wrong with him. He's a guy!" Joey whispers furiously to Phoebe, fearfully eying the restrooms anticipating Chandler's return.

"Well duh." Phoebe agrees. "Though he does have kind of a feminine quality, don't you think?" She adds thoughtfully.

"Phoebe, you set me up with a dude!" Joey reiterates frantically.

"Yeah, and you didn't set me up with anyone," Monica adds, again feeling oddly disappointed.

"Yes, I did," Phoebe tells her. "I found you Don. He's coming any minute now. He's mature and British and imports wine and cheese, really pretentious. I mean, he is _perfect_ for you. You are going to owe me so big time for this."

"Yeah?" Monica asks hopefully, ignoring Phoebe's slight jab and starting to come around to her match making. She likes the sound of this guy already. Don. Maybe short for Donald? British? Even Richard wasn't British. Maybe this isn't such a bad idea after all. "Okay, great!"

"Well I'm glad you ladies worked that all out," Joey interrupts in frustration. "But I've still got a date with a dude!"

"Listen. Don't think of it that way, alright?" Phoebe consoles. "Why don't you guys just go to the Knicks game and see how things go."

"I'm not going out with a guy!" Joey repeats. His anger almost instantly disappears a moment later however as the meaning behind Phoebe's words dawn on him. "Wait. Did you say Knicks game?"

"Mm-hmm." Phoebe nods.

"As in Knicks _playoff game_? As in _game 5 of the Eastern Conference Finals_ Knicks playoff game?" Joey's emotions have done a full 180 shift now as he gleefully bounces back and forth in excitement.

"I don't know," Phoebe tells him distractedly rummaging in her enormous purse for the tickets. "It's baseball I think?"

"Show me those tickets," Joey demands, snatching them from her hands the moment they appear from her bag. After turning them over for inspection a few times he returns them asking in an awed whisper, "Phoebe, where did you get these?"

"Some guy gave them to me as a tip for a massage today," she tells him irritably. "Can you believe that cheapskate? Some people…" she mutters shaking her head in disgust.

Joey just looks at her in amazement for a moment, before yelling out "Chandler!" to the other man who has returned from the restrooms and now stands awkwardly behind the well-worn sofa of Central Perk.

"Yes?" Chandler answers, clearly taken aback by being so forcibly addressed by a total stranger.

"You like the Knicks?" Joey asks bluntly, without preamble.

"Um, the New York Knicks?" Chandler repeats, well and truly confused. Monica feels a wash of sympathy for him as he looks around at them all before answering. "Yeah, I love them." They all continue to stare, which must make him even more uncomfortable, because a moment later he continues rambling nervously, "Though I do think Riley should mix up the offense a little. We're depending too much on Ewing to do everything."

Monica has absolutely no idea who this Riley or Ewing are, or if this analysis has any credibility at all, but when Chandler's baffled gaze lands on her face, she sends him a reassuring smile. He returns it, which makes her own smile grow.

"Yeah, you're right." Joey agrees, clearly following Chandler's assessment. "I mean you got Oakley all by himself out at the three point line. Kick it out once in a while, you know?"

"Yeah," Chandler agrees looking around at all their blank stares for confirmation. "The Bulls bench is just so deep," he tells them as if to convince them of his point. "We can't just throw the same five players out there for 48 minutes and expect to beat those guys." His nervous and impassioned critique comes to an abrupt end and he pushes his hands almost violently into his pants pockets looking for all the world like he might die of embarrassment.

"Told you" Phoebe murmurs boastfully out of the side of her mouth, nudging Joey meaningfully.

"Will you quit?" He demands, stepping out of range of her elbow before turning back to Chandler once more. "Do you want to go to the game tonight?"

"You've got tickets?" Chandler asks in astonishment before recollecting himself and adding, "I mean I'd love to, but I kind of thought… Because Phoebe said...Who are you, again?" He fumbles on for a bit, clearly unsure of how he's managed to unintentionally stumble into plans with both his boss' crazy niece and this stranger bearing playoff tickets.

"Don't worry," Phoebe tells him. "Uncle Dan won't mind if you go to the game with Joey instead of taking me out tonight."

"Do you mean Doug?" Chandler asks in absolute confusion. Once more his eyes seek out Monica for reassurance and she finds she's oddly pleased that he's chosen her as the probable sane one of the group.

"Give me those tickets, woman," Joey huffs, snatching the them from Phoebe's hands once more. "C'mon man," he tells a baffled Chandler, leading him away by the elbow. "We're going to the game. I'll explain everything in the cab."

Monica sends the poor guy another reassuring smile, which seems to convince him to go peacefully along with Joey and the two men are out the door a moment later.

"You know, Phoebe. I like basketball too," an aggrieved Ross pipes up a moment later.

"The Knicks are a basketball team?" Phoebe asks curiously. "Huh."


	2. Chapter 2

_Really, Monica!_ _What were you thinking? Breaking up with Richard? Do you really think you're going to find someone better? At your age?_ Monica frowns slightly to herself remembering her mother's angry criticisms from their earlier phone call. It's nothing she hasn't heard a million times before, but she does hope its something she won't have to hear again. Not now anyhow. Now that she has Don.

 _Actually, Mom,_ _I already met someone new._ It had been a full minute before Judy had gotten over her shock to begin in on her questions about the latest man in Monica's life. Truly a minute; Monica had timed it. She beams happily remembering the triumph. True, Don wasn't really her boyfriend, not yet. They'd only been out a handful of times and he hadn't technically asked her to be his girlfriend. But the dates they had been on had been full of good conversation and even better food, and they had plans for this weekend that Monica was fairly sure would require a little lingerie shopping.

She grins widely again remembering the way that Don had stood up to all the crazy vetting her mother could throw at him. _What was his job? Who were his family? What did he look like?_ There wasn't a single thing for her mother to criticize. Phoebe had been right. The guy was absolutely _perfect_. And though it makes her feel guilty and a little fickle, Don even stands up to her comparisons with Richard. Maybe, just maybe, Richard hadn't been her soul mate after all. Maybe she hasn't thrown away her chance at happiness.

Realizing her dreamy smile might be mistaken for madness by the other patrons of Central Perk, Monica hides her grin with a quick sip of her latte and settles back against the couch to more fully lose herself in her favorite daydream since childhood, one where Judy is actually praising Monica at some family event for everyone to hear.

She's just getting to the part when her mother hushes Ross so she can continuing speaking about Monica's accomplishments, when her fantasy is interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. She looks up to find herself staring into a vaguely familiar pair of blue eyes.

"Hi. Sorry to bother you," the owner of the eyes apologizes. "Would it be okay if I sat here?" He indicates the other end of the couch where she has her feet raised. "There aren't really any open seats," he explains gesturing to the crowded coffee shop.

"Oh, yeah. Sure," Monica replies sitting up straighter and tucking her feet beneath her. "Oh hey," she says a moment later after he's settled in on the other end of the couch. "I know you. You're not my soul mate."

"Um, okay," he responds glancing over at her in amused confusion. "Actually, I get that a lot," he tells her conversationally a moment later, "Though usually women let me hit on them first before rejecting me."

"Sorry. I didn't mean it that way," she smiles back. "It's just that my friend Phoebe did that whole thing last week, dragging you down here to meet our friend Joey, remember?"

"How could I forget?" He asks sounding like he still might be a little traumatized. "That Phoebe is…" He trails off, no doubt trying to find just the right adjective to describe her friend.

"Unique?" Monica supplies. "Unconventional? Zany?"

"Actually I was going to go with certifiable. Though I'm sure she's all those other things too."

"She can be a bit much," Monica concedes. "But she really does mean well. At least most of the time." With Phoebe it was always a little bit difficult to tell.

"Yeah, Joey told me as much during our cab ride. He told me about all of you actually." He takes a moment to look at her thoughtfully before adding, "Let me guess. You must be Rachel."

"Rachel? No." She says with a shake of her head. "That's Rachel. She works here. Though 'work' is probably a little bit generous of a way to describe it," she adds pointing over to the counter where Rachel has been not so covertly spying on their conversation. No doubt her pathologically nosey roommate is curious to know with whom Monica is chatting. As Chandler shifts in his seat to look behind him, Rachel not so subtly looks abruptly away and busies herself scrubbing the counter. "I'm Monica," Monica corrects him drawing his attention back to the couch. "Why did you think I was Rachel?"

"No reason. Just something Joey mentioned," he says shifting nervously once more in his seat, seemingly eager to change the topic. "Anyhow, hello _Monica_ ," he greets stressing the correct name and reaching his hand across the space between them on the couch. "I'm Chandler." His smile quickly turns to a grimace however as she forcefully takes his hand. "That's some handshake you got there," he tells her. "Churn a lot of butter do you?" He adds shaking out his fingers gingerly.

"Thanks," she answers sincerely, choosing to ignore his sarcasm. Everyone knows a firm handshake is an asset. "Anyhow, when you first came into the coffee shop I thought you might be the guy she was trying to set me up with. She kept calling him my soul mate."

"Ah, and that's not me," he says in understanding.

"Right. Because you're Joey's soul mate," she informs him playfully. There is something about this guy that invites teasing and Monica is rather enjoying making him blush and squirm.

"Thanks for that, by the way," he adds sarcastically, "letting me get abducted by a stranger and all. And I had had you pegged as the normal one, you know."

"Hey, it all worked out alright in the end, right?" She reasons. "You saw some basketball. Made a friend."

"That's true," he admits. "That's actually why I'm here. I'm meeting Joe. We're hanging out again tonight."

"Oh," Monica coos. "You guys hit it off, huh?"

"We didn't _hit it off_ ," He tells her in annoyance. "I'll have you know we had a fun, very platonic, _masculine,_ time. There were beers and sports and scantily clad cheerleaders, so there," he all but sticks his tongue out at her. "It was a good time," he adds sincerely. "Joey's a nice guy."

"Yeah, Joey's great," she agrees. "He's my neighbor actually. And we've been friends for years."

They sit in companionable silence for a moment or two before Chandler picks up their conversation from before, "So what about your guy? Did you _hit it off_?" He asks, fashioning air quotes with his hands. " _Was_ he your soul mate?"

"Soul mate? I don't know about that," Monica shrugs, oddly embarrassed. "He seemed pretty great. But they all do in the beginning, right?" She's not sure why she's suddenly downplaying this thing with Don when she's just spent the better part of the morning building it up in her mind. "We'll see how it goes," she tells him. "Besides, I don't think I believe in soul mates. Do you?"

"Soul mates?" He asks. "You mean like a perfect person out there for everyone? Someone who completes you? Makes you whole? Fills the gaping chasm in your heart that you walk around with each and every day? That kind of soul mate?"

Though he says all this sarcastically, almost flippantly, there's something about his description that touches her. As much as she might deny it, this is _exactly_ what she's looking for. She suddenly doesn't trust herself to speak so instead she just nods at his description.

"Nope. At least not for me anyhow," he amends. "She'd have to be one giant lady to fill this mess," he gestures to himself with a self-deprecating laugh."

" _I_ used to be fat," she blurts out suddenly. She's not sure why she's sharing this personal detail with him, especially now in this context where it almost sounds like flirting.

"Oh yeah?" He asks in surprise. "Well it's too bad I didn't meet you earlier then!"

The embarrassment she'd been feeling a moment earlier dissipates at his joke and she lets out a little snort of laughter. "Yep, too bad!" She agrees.

They smile at each other in companionable silence for a bit before Chandler abruptly announces, "I have a third nipple."

"What?"

"Yep, right here," he points to his chest. "I have no idea why I'm telling you this by the way. Please don't tell anyone," he rambles with a nervous chuckle.

"I couldn't tell time till I was thirteen," she shares trying to come up with something equally embarrassing, "Oh and one time I had sex on the terrace of my apartment. My underwear is still hanging on the telephone pole."

"You did what?" Chandler asks in horror.

"What?" Monica asks mortified. "I thought we were sharing our most embarrassing secrets!" She complains, blushing furiously.

"I'm kidding," he tells her with a laugh. She stares at him for a minute before collapsing into relieved laughter herself. "And that terrace thing is _not_ embarrassing," he adds a moment later when they've composed themselves. "Trust me on this. Tell that to your soul mate guy and you're golden."

"Good to know," she replies. She's just debating whether or not to tell him about the time she'd gotten a little too familiar with herself on that class trip to the Hersey's factory when Joey arrives flopping between them onto the sofa.

"Monica! Chandler! Hey guys! You getting to know each other?" He asks happily.

"Yeah, Monica was just telling me about her soul mate," Chandler replies, sending her a wink across the couch behind Joey's back.

"Oh yeah," Joey turns to her, interested. "How are things going with that fancy cheese guy?"

"Pretty good. I think…I hope," Monica answers uncertainly. She can't explain it, but she's pretty sure her sudden ineloquence on the topic of Don is due to Chandler's presence. "We're having dinner tomorrow night," she finishes, trying to convey an excitement and confidence about the upcoming date that she suddenly doesn't feel.

"Alright! Nice," Joey congratulates, clearly not recognizing her discomfort. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." He advises, before adding naughtily, "Which doesn't leave a whole lot out."

"Don't worry. I'm sure it will be great." Chandler adds sincerely, showing that he for one hasn't failed to pick up on her insecurities.

"Oh hey, Rach is here," Joey notes a moment later, noticing their friend up at the counter. "Hi Rachel!" He yells above the din of the busy coffee shop waving cheerfully, before turning to Chandler and adding, "Didn't I tell you she was hot?"

"You sure did," Chandler answers, flushing furiously and looking nervously over at Monica before announcing, "We should go."

"Alright," Joey agrees. I'm just gonna go say hi."

When Joey leaves them momentarily to head to the counter, Monica turns to a visibly embarrassed Chandler and asks innocently, "So Joey told you Rachel was hot, hmm?"

"Yep," he admits shyly. "But you know what he told me about you?" He asks a moment later.

"What?" Monica asks burning with curiosity.

"He told me you were hot too…" Monica smiles happily at this.

"But also a little crazy." He finishes with a smirk. "See ya!" He tells her before making his way to Joey and out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh my God, It's the most awful thing I've ever heard," Rachel declares dramatically. "My ears are bleeding. I think I've gone deaf," she continues, clutching her hands to her head before adding excitedly, "Do it again!"

"Don't do it again," Monica pleads in annoyance, trying and failing to focus on her magazine rather than Chandler and Rachel's discussion.

"HaHaHaHahHa," Chandler cackles.

"How did you stand it?" Rachel asks disbelieving.

"Well during the war, POW's learned to survive their imprisonment by embracing their despair and using their fatalism to their advantage, so…" Chandler jokes.

"I'm being serious," Rachel tells him stretching out a socked foot to kick him lightly in the shin. There is a familiarity in the gesture that has Monica marveling at how quickly Chandler has become a regular player in their close knit group of friends. A little piece of her misses back when he was only close with Joey and herself. It had been nice having a relationship apart from everyone else.

"I don't know," Chandler tells Rachel, swatting her foot aside. "I was in love with her I guess. I just sort of tuned it out." He explains.

"Yeah, but she sounds awful," Rachel continues. Monica finds herself irrationally irritated with her friend's oddly persistent pursuit of information on Chandler's ex-girlfriend. "How could you fall in love with someone like that to begin with?" Rachel continues doggedly as Monica rereads the introductory paragraph to a recipe for macarons in her Food & Wine for the third time. Despite her best attempts to the contrary, she's been oddly preoccupied with the discussion of Chandler's old loves taking place at the other end of her couch.

"At the end of the day she was kind and she cared about me. I mean really what more could anyone ask for? What more could a guy like me expect?" He motions to himself critically; a gesture Monica is learning is quite the Chandler specialty.

She's just debating whether or not to chime in now to assure Chandler that there are plenty of women who would be happy to date him, when Rachel beats her to it. "Honey, you are way too modest," her roommate assures him. "If you walk around with that attitude, you're going to end up with another Janice and be miserable for the rest of your life." At this, Monica abandons the ruse of reading all together, leaving her magazine on the end table beside her and shifting slightly in her seat to face her friends.

"Heck at this rate, I'll just be happy to wind up with someone with all of her teeth and full use of her limbs," Chandler laments. "Do you know I went on a date with a woman the other night who actually spit her steak back onto her plate because it was overcooked. In a fancy restaurant!" He exclaims, incredulous. "Just opened up her mouth and spit the food right back out again. And then…" he continues with a meaningful raise of his eyebrows to convey he's not yet done relaying the horrors of his evening, "…at the end of the night, she tells _me_ she doesn't see things between us going anywhere. _She_ tells _me_!" He finishes, flailing his arms wildly at himself.

"Well, Maybe if you'd taken her to a restaurant that knew how to cook steak, she'd have wanted a second date." The comment comes out a little nastier than Monica intends, but it earns her a grin from Chandler, who is presumably amused rather than offended by her sass.

"You could take me to the cafeteria in the third circle of hell and I still wouldn't spit out my food," Chandler retorts. A moment later though he adds more somberly, "I'm serious. I haven't been on a good date in months."

"But you can't just settle," Rachel admonishes passionately. "There has to be someone out there perfect for you. There just has to be." She sits thoughtfully a moment, probably, Monica imagines, a bit more preoccupied with her own love life than Chandler's, before adding hopefully, "I mean, look at Mon!"

"What do I have to do with anything?" Monica asks in alarm.

"You put in your time!" Rachel explains getting excited now. "Sure, you've had your share of losers and weirdos, heartbreaks and rejections. Remember Paul the wine guy? And that kid in high school?"

"High school?" Chandler repeats turning fully on the couch to stare at Monica with interest.

"We get the point," Monica says in annoyance, hoping to curtail Rachel's list of Monica's romantic failures.

"But look at you now," Rachel says triumphantly, bouncing in her seat. "You found your one! You refused to settle and you found your one. Tell him, Monica." She finishes gesturing to Chandler.

"Well, yeah. Don's great and we're great together," Monica admits, feeling embarrassed by the spotlight Rachel's suddenly shone upon her relationship. It's odd. Normally she'd be beyond eager to discuss and dissect every little aspect of a budding romance. But with Don, Monica's had the exact opposite instinct, hiding and withholding the details of their dates from her friends and not even looking that closely at her own feelings. Whether or not this new relaxed approach to dating bodes well for a future with Don, remains to be seen. "But it's not like fate or destiny or anything. I just got lucky," she adds, hoping to downplay Rachel's insistence on Don's being her one.

"Oh give me a break," Rachel derides. "Lucky, smucky."

"Smucky?" Chandler asks her with a smirk, earning him another, much harder, kick to the shin.

"We know you're trying to play it all cool here, Monica," Rachel continues turning her attention back to her friend. "But you've got to admit; Don is absolutely your one. Don't you remember those "Mr. Right" lists we made in the sixth grade?"

"Mr. Right?" Monica asks feigning confusion. "No. We didn't make any "Mr. Right" lists," she asserts with a false laugh all the while praying that her dear but idiotic friend will just stop talking. The last thing she needs is for Chandler of all people to hear about their childhood wish lists for future boyfriends. She's only known him for a few months, but already she realizes that this would be just the sort of thing to provide him with ammunition to tease them with forever.

"Yeah we did," Rachel retorts obliviously, proving for the umpteenth time that she and Monica lack telepathic powers.

"No we didn't," Monica says through gritted teeth that she tries rather poorly to mask behind a tight smile. A quick peek at Chandler confirms her suspicion that he is absolutely loving this, his head, sporting a wide grin, moving back and forth between the women like he's watching a tennis match.

"Um, yeah we did," Rachel asserts once more. Of course, she'd choose this moment to be firm for the first time in her life. "And do you remember what yours said?"

"No, I don't remember what mine said," Monica replies irritably, "Because I didn't make one."

"You said your Mr. Right would be a mature European who worked in food!" Rachel concludes, pointing a finger at Monica in accusation. "It was Don. It was Don exactly."

"It wasn't Don, you idiot," Monica barks back, momentarily forgetting she's been denying the existence of the boyfriend lists, more interested in scoring a point on her overexcited friend. "I was thinking of Chef Boyardee!"

"I thought you said you didn't make a list," Chandler asks with an innocence not at all keeping with the mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Oh, shut up," Monica snaps at him irritably.

"'Kay," he agrees with a smirk.

"Admit it, Mon. Don's your soul mate!" Rachel insists. "I don't know why you're fighting this so hard. It's everything you've always wanted. You did it. You're going to get your happily ever after."

"So Monica wanted to run off with the Beefaroni guy," Chandler synopses a moment later, shooting her a teasing grin, "but what did your list say Rach?" Monica's not sure if she's grateful to him for shifting the conversation away from her and Don or annoyed that he and Rachel seem again to be the verge of conducting their own little tete-a-tete at the other end of the living room.

"Oh you know," Rachel says dreamily staring up at the ceiling as if trying to summon her dream guy into existence. "Your typical bad boy: motorcycle, leather jacket, bedroom eyes."

"Yeah, that sounds like Ross," Chandler jokes earning him yet another kick.

"See this is the problem," Chandler announces, rubbing his shin in pain. "This right here. This "Mr. Right" business. Do you think there is a single woman out there who fantasized about meeting some sarcastic guy who works a dead end job doing statistical analysis and data reconfiguration for a living?"

"Wait. What's your job?" Rachel asks in confusion, just as Monica supplies teasingly, "Don't forget your daddy issues."

"I regret telling you about that daily," Chandler tells her before continuing on with his rant. "You women," he shoots an accusatory finger at them both, "made up your minds about your _soul mates_ ," he says the words mockingly, "when you were _twelve years old_. What chance could a normal, non-motorcycle riding, non-Spaghetti-Os making guy have? If nobody's going to settle, guys like me are doomed."

"Okay, first off, I would hardly call you normal," Monica teases earning her a glare from their aggrieved friend. "And secondly," she appeases, "any girl you end up with will be lucky to have you." This earns her a genuine smile, which she returns sweetly, before continuing, "And thirdly, and most importantly," she stresses, "Spaghetti-Os are made by Campbell's, _not_ Chef Boyardee."

"You didn't want to marry those weird little chunky soup kids too did you?" He jokes, just managing to avoid a kick from an indignant Monica.

"Alright, I've got to get out of here before you two turn me into one big bruise." He tells them rising from the couch and moving to the front door. "Besides, I need to meet Joey in a few. He's taking me to that Telenovela awards ceremony he's emceeing tonight. The whole thing will be in Spanish and I'll have no idea what's going on, but at least it's an open bar. Not to mention it will be filled with beautiful actresses. I'm hoping I might have a better shot with women who only have a rudimentary grasp on the English language and American cultural norms. Wish me luck!"

Though she denies knowing what became of their lists when Rachel asks after Chandler's departure, later that night, Monica gives into the impulse and digs out the old box of keepsakes from the back of her closet. She's nervous now, rummaging through her mementoes, not sure if her nerves are from worry that her list will confirm Don's her soul mate or from worry that it won't.

When she finally finds the old spiral notebook, she grins a little looking at the doodles of hearts and loops that adorn the cover where she'd written in large flowery cursive "Miss Monica Geller". Flipping through she finds the page of interest in the back, the left hand side showing Rachel's messy scrawl of her qualifications for Mr. Right, complete with a hastily sketched, not very artful, rendition of a man on a motorcycle. Opposite Rachel's list she finds her own list written in her own neat script. She reads the list carefully, smiling and grimacing in equal measure at each of the qualities her old self used to cherish.

 _Monica Geller's Perfect Mr. Right_

 _Must be mature, but not old_

 _From Europe, or someplace equally fancy_

 _Works with food, preferably sweets or pasta_

She marvels for a moment at Rachel's memory as well as her twelve year old self's insatiable love of carbohydrates before continuing...

 _Rich_

Perhaps a tad mercenary, but she notices Rachel listed this attribute three times so that makes her feel a little better.

 _Handsome_

Sure, if he can possibly swing it

 _And most importantly he must be kind and care about me._

Huh. Now why did that sound so familiar?


	4. Chapter 4

"Oh my god, this is _such_ horse poop!" Rachel declares, interrupting Chandler's recounting of his date with his new girlfriend, Kathy. Though it's a little rude, Monica is secretly relieved by Rachel's intervention. She's in no mood for yet another one of Chandler's speeches about Kathy's wit or about the honey flecks in her eyes.

They're all gathered around Monica's breakfast table, an occurrence that has become something of a daily ritual ever since Chandler had moved in with Joey across the hall a few weeks ago.

"Horse poop? Really?" Ross admonishes. "This from the woman who once got us kicked off the subway for her potty mouth."

"I've turned over a new leaf," Rachel explains haughtily, sitting taller in her chair. "Now that I'm representing Ralph Lauren…"

"Ugh," they all moan in unison, having heard about nothing but Rachel's new job at Ralph Lauren for weeks now.

"So, _polo_ horse poop then," Chandler clarifies with a grin.

"Don't you be cute, mister!" Rachel tells him angrily. "It's that attitude that got us where we are now!"

"And where is that exactly?" He asks in confusion.

"With everyone, even you," she snarls pointing an accusing finger into his face, "happily in love. Everyone that is, except me," she adds miserably. "You're all smiling and laughing and going around with springs in your steps and hearts in your eyes," she mocks angrily. "It's disgusting."

"Aw Rach, It's okay," Chandler consoles, placing his hand over her own and adding earnestly, "You'll meet someone. There's someone for everyone."

"Yeah right," she scoffs, tugging her hand away from his and cradling it defensively against her chest. "Don't give me that baloney."

Monica huffs in annoyance as well, coming to stand behind Rachel's chair and placing a comforting hand on her roommate's shoulder. She can't believe what's she hearing right now. "Weren't you the one who said that there was no such thing as soul mates?" She reminds him. She thinks back to one of the very first conversations she'd ever had with Chandler where they'd bonded over their shared disdain for such a romantic and antiquated notion.

"Well, I guess I was wrong," he shrugs simply, turning back to his breakfast.

"So you believe in that 'someone for everyone' garbage now, huh?" Rachel accuses, thankfully giving voice to Monica's own annoyance.

"Well, maybe. I don't know," he pauses, apparently searching for the words to explain his change of heart. "It's just like, if there was some catalog where you could hand pick your someone, you know the one person just for you- I'd totally pick Kathy."

"Wow. I can't decide if that's really sweet or really creepy," Rachel admits. Monica's going to go with creepy but goes to needlessly straighten the dishes on the kitchen counter rather than add her two cents to the conversation taking place at the dining table. She can't explain it but something about Chandler's newfound romanticism is driving her crazy.

"And its not like her being amazing is the really special part either," Chandler continues, making Monica grit her teeth even further. She turns the faucet of the sink up high on the pretense of beginning the dishes in the hope that the sound of the rushing water will drown out Chandler's elaboration on what is so special about Kathy. No such luck she realizes as he continues clear as day, "It's that she's amazing _and_ she picked me. What the hell is she doing with me?"

"I ask myself that question every day," Joey remarks, wryly.

It's no great secret that all the guys have been pretty impressed by Chandler's ability to snag a woman like Kathy. They've even been a little cruel suggesting, like now, that she's way out of his league. Poor guy. They should be happy for him, seeing him so happy. _She_ should be happy for him, Monica thinks guiltily. God, why wasn't she more happy for him?

"So I just have to find a guy that's into all the stuff I'm into?" Rachel continues now, cutting into Monica's thoughts. "Fat chance of that. Do you think there are a lot of heterosexual men out there who love fashion and shopping? Do you?" Rachel demands, angrily. "Because I've been in every boutique and department store on 5th avenue and I can tell you, they don't exist. My soul mate doesn't even exist!"

"Maybe you should check out some women," Joey grins wolfishly at her.

"So?" Ross asks loudly, interrupting Joey's antics, "Who says your soul mate has to like the same stuff you do?" He sounds a bit defensive to Monica and she remembers suddenly that there was a time not so long ago when they'd all believed Ross and Rachel, polar opposites of one another, were lobsters. She wonders if he's remembering it too.

"You do. You all do. That's exactly what we've just been talking about. Look at you all." They do, exchanging confused glances before turning their attention back to Rachel. "Don's just like Monica," she begins turning in her seat to gesture to an embarrassed Monica.

"He is not!" Monica argues, not really giving the idea consideration. Was Don just like her? Something about the idea doesn't sit right with her. Who wants to date themselves, after all?

"Ha! Yes he is," Rachel continues. "Stick a wig on his head and a mop in his hands and boom- he's you!"

"She's got a point," Phoebe contributes now. "He was tidying up when I met him and picked him out for you, actually." Monica bristles at this, wanting to continue defending herself, but Rachel's moved on to the rest of the group.

"And Kathy," Rachel continues, spinning around to face Chandler. "She's into all that same stupid stuff you are. She's just like this really pretty, _not_ awkward Chandler."

"Wait, so my interests are stupid _and_ I'm ugly and awkward?" Chandler asks jokingly, though Monica suspects there may be some actual hurt underlying the comment.

"Oh, honey," Rachel replies noncommittally, petting his shoulder comfortingly.

"She's not answering my question," Chandler remarks.

"And Ross and Emily," Rachel steams ahead. "Who else, _on earth_ ," she stresses, "would go to that doorknob museum?"

"Hey! It was pretty crowded that day!" Ross defends himself.

"With anyone without dentures and a walker?" Chandler asks.

"Fair point," Ross admits grudgingly.

"What about me?" Joey asks now, "And Pheebs? We're not in love with anybody."

"And you don't see us whining about it," Phoebe adds in a very audible whisper.

"Oh please. You two love not being in love. You're _in love_ with not being in love," Rachel rambles. "Talk to me after you've spent a decade looking for Mister Right."

"Well Rach, if you know his name already why don't you just use the phone book?" Joey asks as if Rachel were the dumb one.

"No, Joey I…" Rachel trails off before shaking her head. "Never mind. I've got to run. At least I have my career. You know at Ralph Lauren we're having…"

"Good bye."

"Bye-bye, now."

The chorus of farewells they send Rachel's way drowns out whatever event Ralph Lauren is currently undertaking and with Rachel and her relentless pontificating over soul mates gone the breakfast party soon comes to a close leaving just Chandler and Monica alone together at the breakfast table.

"Well I should head out to work," Chandler begins. He pauses in his movement to leave the table and looks at her searchingly for a moment before sitting back down again and asking, "Are you alright?"

Monica isn't, though she's not quite sure how to explain it. Work is good. Things with Don are good. There really isn't anything she can point to to explain this persistent irritation she's been feeling lately.

"Yeah, I fine," she answers. He just continues to look back at her though, not surprisingly unconvinced by her weak reply. "I mean, I don't know," she continues, simultaneously relieved and embarrassed to be voicing some of the feelings she's been bottling up the last few weeks. "I just wish Rachel would stop talking about all this soul mate nonsense," she answers honestly. "She's always harping on and on about how Don and I are so perfect and how we're made for one another. And you and Ross."

"Me and Ross?" Chandler laughs. "Listen your brother's a great guy and all but…"

"Him and Emily and you and Kathy," she clarifies smacking him on the arm. "You know what I mean. I wish she'd just shut up about it."

"She's just in a rough patch right now, is all," Chandler reminds her sagely. "They're not fun, believe me."

"You've had them before?" She's not really trying to get him to rehash old sob stories for her, but there is something nice about having the old, not disgustingly happy, Chandler back with her, if even for a moment.

"Oh yeah," he replies with a laugh, "I was pretty much in one since about puberty till now."

"But you're happy now?" It's not really a question. Any idiot could see that even though it annoys Monica to no end, being with Kathy is making Chandler ridiculously happy.

"Now I'm happy," he tells her, his grin lighting up his entire face.

Even as she smiles back at him Monica feels a stab of something she thinks may be jealousy. She can't quite trace its source but she thinks it may be that he's so at ease with this soul mate business while she can't seem to feel his joy even as she's in a relationship with someone everyone insists is her one and only.

"You're sure you're alright?" He asks once more, the concern in his eyes dimming his happiness from before slightly.

She finds she doesn't like it much so she works harder at sounding convincing as she answers firmly, "I'm fine."

"I'm fine," she repeats once more to the empty apartment after he's left, hoping somehow that by speaking them out loud she might make the words true.


End file.
